


Sometimes there are no happy endings.

by bluphacelia



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Crying, Feelings, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, garrison era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 15:11:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13720326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluphacelia/pseuds/bluphacelia
Summary: There's a quiet sob, clear as day, and Lance throws aside his comforter and slides down the rickety ladder. He lands a bit awkwardly, feet sliding and he catches himself, fingers grabbing at the rung. He listens for a moment, but Hunk continues to snore. He feels his heart slow as he pushes himself free of the bed.The soft glow of a blue night light, standard issue for each room, lights the way as he tiptoes to the door. It slides open and he steps out into the corridor. Everything looks odd, lights dimmed, translucent, ethereal almost, as he walks to the door next to his.---Lance hears something through the wall of his dorm room at the Garrison.





	Sometimes there are no happy endings.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CLDJendis66](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CLDJendis66/gifts).



> Written for [CLD](http://archiveofourown.org/users/CLDJendis66).

Something nudges Lance awake from the deep recesses of sleep. _Rain?_ he wonders and rubs his eyes. He turns around onto his other side, but the sound only intensifies. He's wide awake now, a dream of flying shattered as quiet weeping penetrates the wall of his dorm room.

Lance shifts, sits up, but the soft snore of Hunk from the bunk below assures him that it isn't his friend. He leans closer to the wall. The pitter patter seems to be coming from the shower in the room over, the sparse spray hitting the tiles making it sound like droplets on a window sill back home. 

There's a quiet sob, clear as day, and Lance throws aside his comforter and slides down the rickety ladder. He lands a bit awkwardly, feet sliding and he catches himself, fingers grabbing at the rung. He listens for a moment, but Hunk continues to snore. He feels his heart slow as he pushes himself free of the bed.

The soft glow of a blue night light, standard issue for each room, lights the way as he tiptoes to the door. It slides open and he steps out into the corridor. Everything looks odd, lights dimmed, translucent, ethereal almost, as he walks to the door next to his.

He wavers hand poised to knock. Why'd he come? He doesn't know if he'll be welcome or if the other cadet will even hear him through the shower. He knocks anyway. 

Lance waits, heart clenching. It hadn't been too long since the last pangs of homesickness had left him crying into his pillow, the gruelling schedule and classes taking their toll. 

He knocks again, louder this time, hoping to be heard. He waits. A seconds pass and he lifts his hand to knock again as the door finally slides open.

"What do you want?"

Lance blinks. It's the ace of class one--fighter class, top score five months in a row now. This had to be a mistake, he must have heard wrong! There was just no way _Keith_ had been crying. 

He backs off, licks his lips, but then finally looks up, eyes finding red rimmed stormy gray. 

"What's wrong?" The words are out before he can help it.

Keith crosses his arms. He's wearing a pair of standard issue pajama bottoms and there's a towel around his neck. His hair drips, drips water across his bare shoulders--his neck.

"What do you mean? Nothing's wrong? Why are you here?" The words are harsh, cold.

Lance looks down, regrets ever leaving his bed, but it's too late now. He has to see this through.

"I heard you," Lance says, eyes finding Keith's. "Through the wall. I guess I never noticed how thin they are. Do you have a single?" He peers over Keith's shoulder seeing only one bed in the corner of the room. "Lucky, how'd you score that?"

Keith looks back into his room and then back at Lance. There's a touch of bewilderment in his gaze, the open hostility falling for a moment making him look like the boy he was, small—vulnerable.

"I'm tired. I'm fine," Keith bites out hand already hovering over the close button. "Thank you for your concern."

"No wait!" Lance steps forward. "I get homesick too. It's not your fault. Everything will be fine!"

Hands land on his chest, push, push and Lance lands painfully outside the door. He winces, looks up at Keith who looks like he's about to hit him.

"Mind your own fucking business," Keith hisses through his teeth. "No one asked you! You're a fucking menace!"

He turns around and the door slides shut with finality. Lance stares. He's still on the ground, legs out, ass sore.

"What the fuck is your deal?" Lance asks the closed door. "You could just act like a normal human, you asshole!" 

The door doesn't answer. Lance grumbles and gets up, dusting his pajama bottoms before walking back to his door. It slides open easily enough as it reads his fingerprints.

"Lance?" Hunk calls out, voice hoarse from sleep.

"Bathroom," Lance replies and Hunk accepts it as he shifts. Lance sighs and walks up the ladder to his own bed. Minutes pass. Hunk's soft snores fill the room, but the room adjacent stays silent.

* * *

Hunk doesn't question the midnight excursion. He doesn't seem to even remember waking up. Classes go like any other Tuesday. Then the teacher asks Lance to stay behind as the bell rings.

"Yes?" Lance asks, feeling a nervous coiling in his gut. He's never been singled out before. Not like this.

"I just have some news for you," the teacher says and she smiles. 

_Smiling, good, that means it's good news right?_ Lance frets.

"I've been informed that due to a dropout, you'll be bumped up to the fighter class starting next week! Congratulations!" She clasps his hand.

His mind goes a mile a minute. Who dropped out? Why would they drop out? What's going on? But he thanks her, accepts the letter she hands him in a sealed envelope and walks out of the room.

Hunk meets him in the canteen, waves him over to his table. Lance grins and drops his tray down before sitting. He's bursting to tell his news, but Hunk looks at him, conspiratorial, eyes gleaming. 

"Did you hear?" Hunk leans forward, whispering.

Lance mimics his stance. "No? What?"

"I heard a rumor Keith, you know from class one, got expelled! Can you believe it?"

Lance balked, falling back into his chair. How was that possible? He'd literally just seen him last night. It wasn't possible? 

"It's not possible?" Lance echoes his thoughts. "How?"

"I'm not sure," Hunk says and waves his fork around. "But apparently class one is a total mess. Rumors are flying around that he punched Iverson and he expelled him on the spot."

"How?" Lance curled his hand around his own fork, but he felt cold, numb. The letter in his backpacked seemed to mock him.

"Yeah, something to do with the whole Kerberos mission news."

"Yeah, do you remember?” Their neighboring cadet couldn't help but add in. “Keith—what's his name—got into a screaming match with his commanding officer about it. Not believing it could be real, saying they were lying about pilot error. Demanding to know the truth." 

"But that was like three weeks ago." Lance tries to reason, but all he can see is the red blotchy skin, the deep bruises under Keith's eyes, the red, the droplets of water down his chest.

The conversation explodes around him, but Lance barely registers it as he moves his vegetables around on his plate. It feels like losing, like he's been given something that doesn't belong to him.

A slow mutinous anger coils around him and he stabs his sliver of meat. He didn't know what Keith's deal was but he wouldn't let this go. He'd become the best, earn the right to his new program, burn the memory of Keith right out of existence. He blinks past the sudden wave of dizziness. 

The anger fizzles down only moments after it began. How could he prove to be better than someone who wasn't here. He would be compared to a ghost, a phantom of impossible strength and poise. The envelope seems like a curse now, a duty he must fulfill without the joy of knowing he'd earned it for himself.

"You okay?" Hunk's voice breaks through the cacophony in his mind.

"Yeah," Lance lies. "Everything is fine."

**Author's Note:**

> You made it to the end! Thank you for joining me on this ride!! You can find me: [tumblr](http://bluphacelia.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/blu_tweets). 
> 
> I've been posting short snippets of fic on tumblr. So, if you want some drabbles! I'd also love prompts if anyone wants to throw me one, my inbox is always open!


End file.
